


Your Love is Liberation

by DistractedDream



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Pet Shop Boys - Freeform, Thiefshipping, datacow's contest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 12:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10411677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedDream/pseuds/DistractedDream
Summary: Admitting he was falling for his partner was harder for Bakura than actually falling for him. A late night of mischief for the pair leads to a revelation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for Datacow's Contest on tumblr. It was originally posted on tumblr and I'm crossposting here. One of the theme song choices was Pet Shop Boy's "Liberation" and I just got a perfect vision of this scene when I heard it. And yep, true to form, the title of this work is from that song.
> 
> Thank you as always to be patient beta, SerenityXStar.
> 
> I can be found on Twitter @DistracteDream and on Tumblr @DistractedDream. Please leave kudos or comments if you liked this! I appreciate every single one.

Whether by virtue of being young or having survived the fires of Ra together, literally, neither Bakura nor Marik paid any heed to the derisive look from the bus driver as they climbed aboard, shaking the rain from their hair. Marik impetuously grabbed his partner’s hand and pulled him to the bench seat in the very back of the nearly empty bus. They fell across the seat, laughing, Marik stretching his slightly longer legs out over the seat while Bakura let his legs lounge in the aisle.

“Did you see Ishizu’s face?!” Marik grinned shamelessly, extending his arms in front of him, watching as the passing city lights reflected off his golden rings and his wrist cuffs where they peeked out from under his sleeves. Together, the pair had crashed some Very Important Function at the museum, one that was supposed to be invitation-only. Unfortunately for Ishizu, Marik had never once needed an invitation to show up, especially not to a party. “She’s probably still inventorying the displays.”

Bakura chuckled as he tossed his long hair over his shoulder and dropped his head back against the seat. They, as usual, hadn’t had a plan. Simply showing up had caused enough trouble to assuage their need for mischief. That Bakura’s pockets were a bit heavier after the party was only a bonus. “She’ll never forgive you.”

“Oh, yes she will.” Marik smoothed out his leather jacket, brushing the water off. “I’m her baby brother and there’s still a part of her that treats me like our clan leader. I was forgiven before I even crossed the threshold.” He sniffed and crossed his ankles. “Shame we had to ditch the bike though. Didn’t realize it was going to rain.” The former tombkeeper tipped his head back to look up at Bakura. “Did my kohl smudge?”

With those soft violet eyes on him, the stolen loot in Bakura’s pockets might as well have been sand. By some compulsion, he found himself wiping his thumb across Marik’s cheek. “You know that wasn’t enough rain to ruin your precious look.”

Marik smirked slowly, not looking away from Bakura’s dark brown eyes. “Of course, but it was worth asking just to see you blush.” Bakura grunted in denial, looking out the window. His cheeks were only somewhat heated and, if it weren’t for the pale skin he’d inherited from his former host, it wouldn’t have been noticeable. “Don’t blame yourself. I know I’m hot.”

“What you are is insufferable.” Bakura shifted, half-heartedly trying to move Marik off him. Instead, Marik grinned like a cat and snuggled down more on his shoulder. Bakura sighed and propped his chin on his palm, resolutely staring out the window as Domino moved beyond the water-splattered pane.

After the Memory RPG, the once Ring spirit had never expected to see Japan again. He had definitely never thought he would see Marik again, much less fall back into an unspoken partnership with him. Bakura harbored a small regret that he had come back in a copy of Ryou’s body instead of his own, but Ryou himself had rationalized that it probably meant he was being given a clean slate. Really though, he had only been listless, aimless without vengeance to plot or a several-millennia-dead Pharaoh to scheme against. At least he had been, until Marik Ishtar breezed back into Domino, sweeping him out of Ryou’s flat and out of his own doldrums.

Marik was reformed. Mostly. With his impish smile, criminal experience, and more money than anyone except maybe Seto Kaiba, Marik did whatever he wished, whenever he wished, often dragging Bakura along with him. Jetting off to Paris because he wanted to see a specific painting in the Louvre? Done. Hiring a sky writer to write “Kaiba Stinks” over KaibaCorp? Well, that one hadn’t gone perfectly as Marik really had hoped to have it written in hieroglyphics, but Seto still had been annoyed enough to get in his jet and bust up “Stinks”. And Bakura wouldn’t have mentioned it, but he suspected Ryou’s extra influx of money came from a certain blonde benefactor who might yet feel guilty for using him during Battle City.

It wasn’t that the former tombkeeper and the former spirit were inseparable; they simply had more fun together than apart. Ryou had asked him a few times about their relationship and each time, Bakura snapped and snarled at him. Relationships were for do-gooders. Like Yugi. Or Ryou. Bakura didn’t have time for that foolishness. Or… he hadn’t before. Now? Now his waking hours were occupied with whatever plans Marik devised and in lieu of that, with new ways and excuses to spend time with Marik. He hadn’t spoken to Ryou for a week after he pointed out that that was exactly what a relationship was.

Bakura crinkled his nose and tugged the collar of his trench coat closer. So what if he liked spending as much time as he could with Marik? So what if he liked making him happy? And so what if he was more and more reluctant to leave after each of their escapades ended? It didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t going to be tied down. He was free, finally actually free, free to do whatever he wanted. And what he wanted was…

A movement on his shoulder halted his thoughts, Marik’s head rolling with the motion of the bus. The damp fabric of his coat stuck to him from where his wet hair had been. A golden lock fell over his face and Bakura reached across himself to push it back without disturbing his dozing partner. The other murmured something and tucked himself closer, comfortable and trusting. Bakura still marveled at how easily Marik trusted him. It hadn’t come as effortlessly to Bakura. Following along with a strategy or to another country was one thing; being vulnerable in front of someone, even Marik, was different.

Yet slowly, patiently, and, Bakura could only guess, unwittingly, Marik wormed his way into Bakura’s defenses. He hadn’t known it happened until that trip to Paris when, during the flight home, Bakura had drifted off, much like Marik had now. He had awoken with a blanket over his lap and Marik reading quietly beside him. Neither mentioned it but that excursion had shifted things between them. Marik was a little freer with his laughter and Bakura became sincerer in his. Days and nights together got longer, until only safety concerns for Marik’s driving with so little sleep sent one or the other home. Ryou had bought Bakura a second toothbrush after that, in case, he said, Bakura wanted to leave it somewhere. He hadn’t, but he’d noticed another one in the bathroom drawer as well, purple, and Bakura didn’t find himself as bothered by that as he would have thought.

The stop closest to Bakura and Ryou’s flat came and went. Bakura drew his eyes from Marik’s face and fiddled with his pocket. He hadn’t stolen much at the museum, certainly nothing for which Ishizu could have gotten in trouble. However, one of the guests had been overly adorned in Bakura’s opinion and relieving her of one ring in particular was doing her a fashion favor in his eyes. He carefully pulled out the ring, mindful not to smudge the gemstone with his fingers, holding the band between his thumb and forefinger. In the dim watery glow from the passing city lights, the amethyst shone dark, nestled in a setting of diamonds and yellow gold.

“I’m a fool. I’m a complete fool.” Bakura muttered to himself, dropping his cheek down to rest on Marik’s silky hair. His thieving fingers crept to Marik’s, sliding the stolen ring down onto his pinky. “But looks like I’m your fool.”

“Hm?” Marik stirred, rubbing at his face, trying to surreptitiously check if he’d been drooling. He didn’t want to open his eyes yet, feeling warm and safe, if a little uncomfortable. “…Kura?” Marik yawned and stretched his cramped muscles, sandy lashes fluttering open and catching sight of his new adornment. He hummed in approval, turning his hand to admire the stone. “Guess I fell asleep.”

Bakura nudged him, face hot, thankful that Marik didn’t comment more on his gift. “Yeah, and you almost made us miss your stop, Sleeping Beauty. Get up.”

Marik laughed, that carefree, liberated laugh Bakura liked so much, and threaded their fingers together, tugging Bakura up from the seat as the bus came to a stop. “Knew you thought I was a beauty.” He winked and led him off the bus, ignoring Bakura’s put-upon groan and the driver’s admonishing glower. He pulled Bakura to the sidewalk, not caring about the drizzling rain or what effect it would have on his hair, looping his arms over his partner’s shoulders. “Hey Bakura?”

“We’re going to be soaked standing out here.” Bakura groused though he didn’t try to break away. “What?”

Marik threaded his fingers into Bakura’s hair, his smile never fading, keeping Bakura in his arms as he tipped his face closer. “I love you too.”


End file.
